


No Delusions

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: One Night at a Time [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22928008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Y/n meets up with other hunters in Elizabethville.~~~~~~~~~~“Dean! Sam!” I exclaim, happily.“You know these guys?” Richie asks, gesturing at the brothers.I nod. “Oh, yeah. See, these are real hunters, Richie. They’re not play acting.”“I’m not play acting!” Richie says indignantly.“Uh-huh. Why don’t you go tell your hot piece behind the bar about that ghoul that almost ate your face in Fayetteville?”Richie scoffs again and looks to the Winchesters in exasperation. “Why ya gotta bust my balls so hard, huh?”“Take what you can get, man. Me bustin’ ‘em is the only contact your balls are gonna have with me.”Richie shakes his head and walks off, muttering, “Just so rude” as Dean laughs and sits next to me.“Thought you went up with the Roadhouse,” Dean says and it almost sounds like he was worried.“Nah. I was doin’ a shifter in El Paso. I wasn’t always at the Roadhouse, ya know?” I tease.“Sure seemed like it…and I asked Ellen and she said-”“You asked Ellen? Really?” I snort.“What, is that such a shocker?” he asks and I nod, sobering a bit.“A little, yeah.”
Series: One Night at a Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647841
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	No Delusions

I miss Harvelle’s Roadhouse. The lack of a home base is getting to me. I can deal with the loss of Ash, he was a dear friend but I’ve lost those in the past. But, with demons every-fucking-where and a war on the horizon, not having a place to feel at home is killing me. It’s absolutely _not_ because I haven’t seen the Winchester brothers since the bar exploded.

The bar I’m sitting in in Elizabethville is not home, even if there’s another hunter running around leering at anything with boobs.

“Why haven’t you an’ me gotten together, huh, Y/n?” Richie asks, leaning against the bar stool next to me.

“Probably something to do with me having standards, Richie.” I take a drink and look around the bar.

Richie scoffs. “Fine. I got somethin’ going with the hot piece behind the bar, anyway.”

“Pro tip: Women don’t generally like to be called a ‘hot piece’.”

“Sluts do.”

I have no words, so I just roll my eyes at him and gulp down more beer.

“Richie, man, watch your language,” a familiar voice scolds from behind the other hunter. I can’t help the grin on my face as Dean and Sam walk up. “Don’t use the ‘S’ word, you misogynist.”

“Dean! Sam!” I exclaim, happily.

“You know these guys?” Richie asks, gesturing at the brothers.

I nod. “Oh, yeah. See, these are _real_ hunters, Richie. They’re not play acting.”

“I’m not play acting!” Richie says indignantly.

“Uh-huh. Why don’t you go tell your hot piece behind the bar about that ghoul that almost ate your face in Fayetteville?”

Richie scoffs again and looks to the Winchesters in exasperation. “Why ya gotta bust my balls so hard, huh?”

“Take what you can get, man. Me bustin’ ‘em is the only contact your balls are gonna have with me.”

Richie shakes his head and walks off, muttering, “Just so rude” as Dean laughs and sits next to me.

“Thought you went up with the Roadhouse,” Dean says and it almost sounds like he was worried.

“Nah. I was doin’ a shifter in El Paso. I wasn’t _always_ at the Roadhouse, ya know?” I tease.

“Sure seemed like it…and I asked Ellen and she said-”

“You asked Ellen? Really?” I snort.

“What, is that such a shocker?” he asks and I nod, sobering a bit.

“A little, yeah.”

“I’m gonna…” Sam gestures at the bar and Dean nods, deep green eyes never leaving my face.

“Nobody I’ve talked to has heard from you in a couple months. I really thought you were gone,” he whispers.

“People don’t hear from me because people don’t like _me_ so I don’t bug _them_. We’ve had this conversation before, Winchester,” I whisper, looking away from those fucking eyes.

“Yeah, I remember. I told you _I_ like you, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” I mimic. I lick my lips and drain the last of my beer. “And I told you that you don’t actually like me.” I shrug and put my hand up for another beer.

“Um…thought I proved I do.”

“Yeah! You liked me for a night and it was awesome!” I say, turning to him as the bartender takes my glass and walks away to refill it.

“No, not for…what, ‘cause I only fucked you once, that means I only liked you once?”

"I fucked _you_ more than you fucked _me_ ,” I say, turning to him. “Look, I’m not trying to offend you or downplay what happened, Dean, but it’s just…I’ve never read much into it. I _wasn’t_ crazy to think I had a shot with you, that’s the biggest takeaway for me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Really?” he asks and I sigh.

“You were drunk. I’m not stupid. I know that’s the only reason I got you for the night. You very specifically said ‘I’m drunk and horny’ and I was the only chick there to help you with that and I’m not mad or hurt about it, so you don’t gotta pretend with me. It was fun.”

He scoffs and looks away from me and I feel like maybe I’ve offended him, but it offended me that he was trying to act like he gives a fuck.

“Seriously? It’s nice to know what you think of me, Y/n.”

I shake my head and stand, throwing money on the bar. “I wasn’t trying to offend you, man. I’m just being real. You have never showed any real interest in me. I’m not a blip on your radar on a sober day or even a drunk one with Jo Harvelle around. I know what I am to you. I got no delusions about it.”

“Y/n, I-”

“It’s getting a little crowded on this hunt. I’ll bow out. There’s a haunting in South Florida I can check out.” I pat his back and head out the door.

“Heading out already?” a voice says as I leave.

I turn and look and it’s the priest I talked to yesterday. “Oh, yeah. It’s not really my scene, Father,” I say dismissively.

“Well, if you aren’t the gambling and drinking type, maybe you’re the Wednesday Twilight Mass type?” he asks almost hopefully.

“Not usually, but…it’s been half my life since I’ve been to confession so…I might just take you up on that.”

The pay-by-the-hour shithole I’m staying in looks like it used to be a nice place, but not anymore. I’m just finished getting packed when a knock comes to my door. I pull my gun and approach cautiously. Dean’s on the other side of the lenses when I look through the peephole. I sigh all the air out of my lungs and unlock the door.

“I’m supposed to be lookin’ for Richie 'cause he fucking disappeared, but I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about how you think I’m this user and asshole,” he blurts out before he’s even fully in my room.

“I didn’t say either of those things,” I say as I close the door. “You’re projecting.”

“I’m what?”

“You feel guilty all of a sudden because I had the audacity to take the rose tint off of your memory of the night so you’re projecting your feelings of being a user and an asshole onto me when I very clearly stated that I have no hard feelings and completely understood why it happened and don’t regret it in the least.” I flop down on the bed and look up at him as he starts to pace.

“I didn’t-I don’t…I’m not projecting shit!” I shake my head and lick my lips as he continues. “You don’t know what’s in my head. You don’t know my motivations. You don’t know why I-”

“Flirted with me and shot me down for months and barely noticed when I stopped sitting at the bar until you were drunk and lonely?” I finish. “Look, I tried to do what you’re doing. I tried to make it out like it wasn’t just the alcohol and a lack of other options, but then I thought it through. I went through every word you said to me that night, Dean, and you told me about all the stress weighing on you and you said you were drunk and horny and then later you said 'God I needed this’.”

That’s the one that made me reevaluate. 'God, I needed this. I can’t even explain how much’.

“You needed someone to make you feel wanted, to make the stress go away, and I was there. I was the only one there. If there were _any_ better options…” I look away from him. “I don’t think you’re a user or an asshole, man. I think you’re a human being who needed something and I was the one who could provide. You even reciprocated which is better than most guys. It’s not a big deal.” Dean stops pacing and stares at me, but I can’t look at him. “I’m an understanding person. I’m not mad. But come on, Dean. You gotta be honest with yourself.”

I take a deep breath and look at him, those stupid green eyes. “You don’t like me. You don’t want me. You _needed_ me that night, but…it was just for one night.”

“Shit,” he whispers and I know it’s mostly to himself.

I nod and stand. “Yeah. Um…I’m gonna head to that haunting in Fort Lauderdale. You got this.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, quietly.

“Don’t be.” I grab my bag and smile up at him. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

“You don’t deserve-”

“Stop. I’m gonna go.” I sling my bag over my shoulder and walk out.


End file.
